Tuesday, August 31, 2004

We've been saving Rob's

XXGood tiger poem. This'll be the first, last, or middle one in the book. It's untitled. Hook up with Rob via the link to the right.


Crazy jig up in Harlem
Kept a tiger in his crib
Shifty eyes, head on a swivel. Crept
Dirty streets to C-Town
Then secreted back again
Mounds of midnight meat
Smuggled
To keep that big cat fed

Done pacing, growling, roaring
Now gnawing his own flesh.
Draped over pissy couch. Tongue
Licked his diseased chops
Eyed that little man
Fell into fitful sleep
Dreamed
Jungle kingdom tree-branch bed

Feeding time up in Harlem
Meat tossed from behind TV-stand
Throwing, ducking. Biting, Gulping. Eyes
Trained on that little man
Inhaled the last rump roast
Reached and ripped jig’s ribs right out
Satisfied
Fierce prowling his own land

1 Comments:

Anonymous Anonymous said...

Rob, that's a great poem.

Westney

5:01 PM  

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